


Ghosts

by Anna_Blossom



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7494693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Blossom/pseuds/Anna_Blossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ana…” was his shocked whisper as he saw her. White hair, missing eye, faded tattoo— but it was her. His fists clenched, but no one in the room seemed to notice. Not Hana beside him. Not Jack or Torbjörn or Angela, who seemed to be pretending everything is fine, everything is forgiven. His fists clenched tighter and his teeth grit, but Ana didn’t even notice.</p><p>(The third time a ghost from the past returns, and Reinhardt breaks)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts

When Solder: 76 revealed himself as Jack Morrison, the first thing Reinhardt did was wrap his arms around the man so tightly until Jack couldn’t breathe. Elation took over him, made his heart burst with warmth, and a relieved laugh fell from his lips. Jack was _alive_. His friend was alive and well and right here in front of him, in his arms. But despite this, he couldn’t stop the small ball of hurt and betrayal forming at the back of his mind ( _Why were you hiding? Why didn’t you tell us, tell_ me _? Why, Jack?_ ). It didn’t matter, he told himself, because Jack was here now, and he was _alive_.

When Reaper was revealed to be Gabriel Reyes, the first thing Reinhardt felt was shock. Then came sorrow, a close second. Sorrow for what the man he used to call friend had done and for what he had become. That ball of hurt and betrayal expanded until it sat at the back of his mind like a parasite he couldn’t get rid of ( _I buried the both of you! I went your funerals and mourned you and just now you come back?!_ ). But he ignored it, suppressed it because Jack and Gabriel are _alive_ and _here_ and that should be enough for him.

When Ana Amari came back from the dead, the first thing Reinhardt realized was that that same ball of hurt and betrayal was expanding at a rapid rate, taking over his mind and making his fists clench and shake until he could no longer contain it.

“Ana…” was his shocked whisper as he saw her. White hair, missing eye, faded tattoo— but it was _her_. His fists clenched, but no one in the room seemed to notice. Not Hana beside him. Not Jack or Torbjörn or Angela, who seemed to be pretending everything is fine, that everything is _forgiven_. His fists clenched tighter and his teeth grit, but Ana didn’t even notice.

“Reinhardt,” Ana said, smiling at him and Reinhardt remembered that as the same smile in the framed photograph they put up at her funeral. “It’s been too long, my friend.” She approached him, arms open and moved to embrace him. But Reinhardt stepped away.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice tense and his eye boring into hers, but he kept his face neutral. “Too long.”

“Reinhardt?” Angela asked worriedly, but he didn’t look away. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” he replied gruffly, thoughts racing as he remembered the way Fareeha clung to him for support as they lowered Ana’s casket into the ground. “This is not alright.”

“Reinhardt,” Ana said softly, and he is reminded of the way Angela’s voice sounded as she gave Ana’s eulogy, soft and trembling as tears ran down her cheeks. “Please. I know I shouldn’t have stayed hidden for so long—”

“ _Hidden?!_ ” Reinhardt cut in sharply. “You vere dead, Ana.”

“I—”

“YOU VERE _DEAD!_ ” He bellowed angrily, and the room fell dead silent around him. He took a step forward, hurt and betrayal and anger clear on his face as he shouted at Ana. “I vatched them bury you into a grave I helped dig! I vatched as they lowered you into the ground!”

Jack stepped forward. “Reinhardt—”

“ _NEIN_ , JACK!” he shouted, whipping around and pointing an accusing finger at him. “You don’t get to talk,” his shoulders shook. “ _Especially_ not you.”

Tears prickled the corners of Ana’s eye as she spoke, voice ridden with guilt. “I… Reinhardt, I know what I did was… unfair. To you, to everyone here and I am _sorry_. But I wasn’t—”

“Do not apologize to us,” Reinhardt leveled her with a harsh stare. “Apologize to _Fareeha_.”

Her eye widened at the mention of her daughter’s name. Guilt and regret came off of her in waves as she lowered her head in shame.

“I held her as she cried into my shoulder, did you know zat?” he continued, accent growing thicker as he let his emotions bleed into his words. “Did you know zat I vas ze one who had to tell her zat her mother vas killed in action?! Do you know how much it tore me apart, vatching as she tried to keep herself together?! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK HER TO GET USED TO ZE FACT ZAT HER MOTHER VAS DEAD?! _MONTHS_ , ANA! VHERE VERE YOU DURING ZOSE MONTHS?!”

She was silent, biting on her lip, but Reinhardt didn’t care. He was angry at her, angry that she left Fareeha alone, angry that she only revealed herself now, angry that she actually thought she was doing the right thing. But most of all, he felt _hurt_ and _betrayed_.

“ _VHERE, ANA?!_ ” Reinhardt demanded, and Hana flinched away from him. He stopped at that. He glanced at the young girl beside him and, once seeing how terrified she looked, tried to control his breath which was coming in harsh pants.

Ana’s hand went up to cover her mouth, tears running down her face. Angela approached her, put a soothing hand on her back and held Ana’s hand in the other. Reinhardt screwed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down.

“I…” he started, opening his eyes and staring at Ana, and his shoulders slumped and he felt utterly and completely _drained_. “I mourned you… you und Jack… und Gabriel. ” His mind barely registered Jack looking down at the floor. For once, Reinhardt was glad Jack wore a visor, because he wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing his guilt stricken face. His voice was unsteady, and he sounded as tired as he felt. “I mourned you, und now…” he trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Silence filled the air, broken only by Ana’s quiet sobs.

A few moments passed before she slowly looked up at him, and Reinhardt took in just how old and weary she was. That ball of hurt and betrayal was gone for now, replaced by guilt at the realization that he wasn’t the only one who suffered during those years they thought her dead. Because as much as he Fareeha lost her mother, Ana lost her daughter and her _life_.

Reinhardt hesitantly opened his mouth to say something, “I—”

“Mom?”

A quiet voice cut through the air, and Reinhardt heard Ana inhale sharply, eye trained on someone behind him. He turned around to face Fareeha, wide-eyed, mouth open in disbelief. He watched as she took a few tentative steps towards her mother.

“Mom? Is that you?” She asked again, and Reinhardt had to close his eyes at her tone. Terrified yet hopeful at the same time, like a little girl waking up from a nightmare, unsure whether the nightmare was over or not.

“Fareeha,” Ana choked out tearfully, pulling away from Angela’s comforting hold. At the sound of her voice, Fareeha ran towards her and wrapped her arms around her tightly, and Ana responded in kind. “Oh, _habibti_ ,” she murmured into her daughter’s hair, and Reinhardt felt his heart clench painfully.

He turned around and walked briskly towards the exit. He needed to get out of here. Away from Ana. Away from Jack. Away from old ghosts and painful memories and the past that kept haunting him.

“ _Hal-abeoji_ ,” he heard Hana say, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t face her after that. Not now.

“Not now,” murmured Torbjörn, echoing Reinhardt’s thoughts. His voice grew faint as Reinhardt walked further away. “Give the man some time alone…”

 

\--

 

Reinhardt stood on top of a cliff, uncharacteristically quiet as he watched the sun dip, slowly painting the sky a darker orange as each second passed. He took in the scenery before him. Seagulls flew overhead and the wind was a gentle breeze that caressed him as it passed. It was peaceful, quiet, in stark contrast with his current state of mind.

It was unfair. For _years_ he had thought them dead, visiting empty graves and grieving as he placed flowers on their tombstones. And now, out of nowhere, they reveal themselves to be alive. All this time they had been alive, but they never bothered to even _think_ about the people they left behind, the grief they had caused. His fists clenched.

He wondered if they ever visited their own graves, glanced at the flowers on their tombstones, watched from afar as their loved ones mourned them.

There was a sound behind him, metal against rock, breaking his train of thought. He glanced at the newcomer, mildly surprised at seeing Hanzo. The archer gave him a nod in lieu of a greeting, and Reinhardt simply turned his gaze forward. Hanzo stood beside him, quietly drinking in the view as well.

A few minutes passed by, before Reinhardt sighed wearily. “If ze others sent you to see how I am doing, zen I should tell you zat I am perfectly fine.”

Hanzo’s lip twitched into a small smile. “It is funny how life works,” he said, voice colored with slight amusement, and Reinhardt gave him a confused frown.

“I do not understand vat is so amusing.”

“Just a few months ago, our positions were reversed, and I was the one saying that to you,” Hanzo replied, eyes not moving from where they stared at the setting sun. Reinhardt let out a small chuckle as he recalled what he was talking about. ‘Just a few months ago’ was when Hanzo had been brooding in this exact same spot, for it was the day he had supposedly murdered his own brother. Reinhardt sobered at that, amusement gone, now understanding why Hanzo was here.

“I know how you must feel right now,” Hanzo murmured, his voice oddly soothing in its sincerity. “Seeing someone you thought dead for so long alive and in the flesh… it brings forth a plethora of complicated feelings.”

Reinhardt stayed silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his statement but he knew it to be true. The joy at seeing them alive and the shock at seeing them change so much. Hurt because you never knew and guilt because you never bothered finding out. Betrayal because they never told you and anger because they only showed themselves now.

“When Genji appeared to me, I honestly did not know what to do,” Hanzo admitted softly, and when Reinhardt turned to face him, he didn’t see Hanzo the warrior, the fierce archer whose deadly calm hid a storm. No, he saw Hanzo the brother, the one filled with so much heartache and guilt for what he had done, the one who once saw redemption only in death. “I had believed him to be dead for many years that seeing him alive was…strange. I was angry, and I acted foolishly, intent of living in the past, deeming myself beyond redemption. Avoiding him seemed like the best course of action. But you and the others showed me it was one of the worst, and I am thankful for that. Otherwise, I might have destroyed the bond between me and Genji beyond repair.”

Hanzo turned to look at him, and his piercing eyes showed just how much he understood, and how much he wanted to help. “The others didn’t send me. I came here on my own accord to tell you that if you ever need someone to talk to, I am willing to lend an ear, as you lent me yours.”

Reinhardt held his gaze for a long moment, before laughing half-heartedly. “To zink you vere telling me to mind my own business a few months ago.”

Hanzo chuckled. “I suppose I’ve come a long way since then.”

“Handsoap- _oppa_ , where are you?” A young voice called out from within the base, and Reinhardt barked out a laugh at Hanzo’s grimace.

“Handsoap?” He asked as soon as his laughter faded.

“McCree’s influence, no doubt,” Hanzo muttered in a tone that sounded fonder than he must’ve realized. “I must go. I promised to help her with something.”

“Better not keep ze girl vaiting.”

The archer gave him one last glance, a soft look in his eyes. “Overwatch has your back,” he said, and Reinhardt blinked at the familiarity of that sentence. “Those were your words. I believe now is the right time to return them to you.”

“ _Danke_ , my friend,” Reinhardt grinned at the smaller man. Hanzo nodded at him, before turning around and walking back towards the base.

Reinhardt watched him, only turning to face the sunset again after Hanzo disappeared around the corner. His mind was still in turmoil and that messy knot of feelings was still there, but now, he felt as if he could start untangling it, bit by bit. He stood there quietly until the sky was no longer orange.

He took a deep breath as he entered the base, Athena’s robotic voice informing him that Winston was asking for his whereabouts earlier, sounding incredibly worried. Reinhardt thanked her and told her to tell Winston that he’s fine now, before asking her for Ana Amari’s current location. There was something he needed to do first.

 

\--

 

Reinhardt stood in front of Fareeha’s door, listening to the muffled conversation that came from inside. He steeled himself, knocking twice and the soft voices stopped.

“It’s open,” Fareeha called out. Reinhardt took a deep breath, hand hesitantly reaching for the door handle. He slowly opened the door, greeted by the sight of the two women sitting on Fareeha’s bed.

“Reinhardt,” Ana stood up, regarded him timidly as he walked towards her. “Reinhardt, I know there is no way I can make up for what I did,” her voice was heavy with emotion, but he didn’t stop walking, and Fareeha stood up cautiously, ready to intervene if she needed to. “And I want you to know that your anger is justified and that I deser—”

He cut her off, encasing her within his arms, and she froze midsentence. He tightened his hold around her, and he felt her body sag in relief, small arms hesitantly returning the hug. Reinhardt felt his chest grow damp as she sobbed softly, and he felt tears prickle the corner of his eye as well.

 “It is good to have you back, my friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (please correct me if I'm wrong):
> 
> habibti - my dear  
> hal-abeoji - grandfather
> 
> So, first time writing an angst one-shot and first time writing Reinhardt. Reinhardt needs more love ~~and by love, I mean he needs more stories written about him because he is pure and he is good and he is the grandfather we all want~~. Also, I headcanon that while D.Va calls him and Morrison 'dad' in English, she calls Reinhardt grandpa. Thanks for reading :)


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